World War Three
by n0pe
Summary: When Walternate attacks our universe, and leaves nothing but destruction in his wake, the sixteen hiding in the FBI basement must find a way to survive in a world where everything is gone. Pre-pilot, AU. P/O, naturally.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, after a few months of no stories, I'm back. This is going to be a multi-chapter story, and the longest one I've ever done. I've already finished nine chapters, but a few of them are quite short, including this one. It's AU; Peter, Walter and Olivia have never met, and it's set before the pilot. Oh, and don't worry, although it may not seem like it at first, this is definitely P/O, because I just can't help myself. Also, I might post another chapter today, to make up for this one's length.  
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**DISCLAIMER: Only the story is mine, all recognizable characters belong to their creators. And Fox. I think. **

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The sound of footsteps filled the dusty air, heavy with decades of history. It was anything but loud, yet it was the only sound that could be heard in the enormous room, except for two sets of heartbeats, and the rustling of pages. The source of the footsteps sat down next to a woman, just a little too close to be co-workers only. The woman was staring at the pages before her very intently, seemingly determined to absorb every ounce of information they contained, storing it all in her mind.

The man, however, was a bit more relaxed, his eyes drifting away from the file he was holding every now and then to the woman sitting next to him. Then, he dropped the papers onto the table where they landed with a dull bang, and turned towards his companion.

"'Livy, can't we do this some other time?" He asked, almost whined. "It's boring, and quite frankly, I could think of a lot more fun things we can do in a deserted basement…" He drifted off, but the woman only rolled her eyes towards him, and remained working, though her cheeks were getting a little flustered.

He persisted, however, and began moving closer, until his lips were mere inches from hers. He almost closed the gap, when she pushed him away slightly, and said:

"We can't do this here, John. What if someone catches us? We'd be fired!"

"Ah, come on. There's nobody down here!" He said whilst peppering her neck with kisses. The determined look on her face began to fade, and finally she gave in, kissing him back just as vigorously when suddenly a loud boom sounded, followed by an enormous noise. Screaming people, falling objects, guns being emptied and more screaming.

They jumped apart, startled by the noise and immediately grabbing for their guns. Then, another boom sounded, this time a lot closer and sending out a shockwave that threw all of the furniture in the enormous archive basement to the ground. Files and organizers, boxes and papers, chairs and tables were flying around and even the heavy, steel archive cases were moving slightly. Even before the sound of a third hit reached their ears, the cases were falling, and chaos was everywhere.

Around them, people were running into the basement, fleeing from the disarray above. Suddenly, Olivia noticed that John was no longer next to her.

She almost panicked. Where was he, she had to find him! With a rush of adrenaline and perhaps even the slightest trace of fear, she began moving things out of her way, bangs still sounding outside but further away, creating a path to where he'd previously been standing through the still falling debris. She made it to the second case when through the smoke she saw a limp hand, lying still on the gravel of a fallen wall. Olivia began digging it away, freeing his face and a part of his upper body when she noticed he wasn't moving at all. No. This could not be happening, not to her!

"John, look at me! John!" His eyes remained closed, and as she tried and tried to free him of the stale archive case trapping him, she became more and more frightened, the noises still continuing and the building still shaking. "Look at me, goddamnit!" No, John could not be dead. He couldn't, not when he was the first good thing happening to her in years, maybe even her whole life. She was still frantically digging away the debris and trying to get to him when suddenly she saw a man running towards them. He called to her, but she couldn't hear, completely absorbed in trying to save John, when suddenly, she felt a sharp pain shooting through her leg. Only seconds later her vision went black.

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**A/N: SO? Liked it, hated it, will never so much as look at me again for even mentioning John? Just let me know, I love feedback.  
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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and alerts on this story already, but it's only just begun. This is because I'm feeling generous today, and because I'm going to fail miserably on my Latin test, so I need something to cheer me up when I get home. Once again, short chapter, but I just felt like it needed to end here. Besides, the smaller the chapters the more frequent the updates. **

**DISCLAIMER: ****Only the story is mine, all recognizable characters belong to their creators. And Fox. I think. **

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"_John, no! Don't you leave me, don't! Stay with me. Stay with me, Goddamn it!" _

Olivia's eyes shot open, her own words still echoing in her head. The first thing she noticed was the stabs shooting through her ankle, making her clench her teeth in pain. It felt as if she had been run over by a truck, and she couldn't feel her toes at all. When she tried to move, a wave of nausea hit her and she felt a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back to the ground. She looked up, and saw a man bent over her, his hand restraining her from moving. The man was covered in dirt and blood red streaks, and his eyes were baby blue, with concern written all over them.

"Whoo there, sweetheart. We don't want you falling around here." Said the man, who seemed vaguely familiar to her. Where had she seen him before? She squinted her eyes, trying to remember where from she knew him, when suddenly, it all came back to her. The sounds outside, the people screaming and the ground shaking- John. John, where was John? She had to find him, what if he was hurt? What if he-

What if he was dead?

"John, where is he? The man… The man that was with me. He's tall and he had blond hair, and he… he was with me." She was gesturing wildly, trying to sit up. " Come on, tell me! Where is he?" She said, becoming more and more frantic. She had to go find him, he could be hurt! If this man would just let her go…

"No, lie down." Olivia did no such thing. "Look, you can try to get up, but I don't think having an injured ankle will be very useful in finding this John of yours." Said he, still holding her back.

"But I have to- I have to find him! I have to… What if something happened, what if-" Her frantic movements, trying to get away had now changed into sobs that ripped through her body, and she couldn't think straight.

"Alright, I'll go find him, but you stay here. And don't move." The man said, looking her in the eye. "And if you see a crazy old man walking around here, tell him to stay here, that I told him to."

She stiffly nodded, her back shaking and her cheeks stained with tears, still wanting to go look for him herself, but realizing that in her condition, it was more useful to let the man look. She wouldn't be able to do much anyway; as much as she hated to admit it the pain was enormous.

"Hey, wh- what's your name?"

"Peter." And with that he walked away, towards the debris.

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**A/N: As I said, short. But please cheer me up with some reviews? **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, so maybe my promise for longer chapters will take a little while, but the upside is almost daily updates :D Enjoy. **

**DISCLAIMER: Only the story is mine, all recognizable characters belong to their creators. And Fox. I think. **

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Olivia wasn't really sure how much time had passed since Peter had set out to find John. She'd slept for a short while, not out of will but rather sheer exhaustion, and her sleep had been dreamless. Now that she was awake, she finally looked around, as she hadn't been able to yet. She was still in the basement, only it appeared that someone had moved her to the more or less unharmed side of the room, laying her down on an impovised bed. There were people strewn around the floor, a few of which she wasn't even sure were alive, their bodies lying still but too far away for her to judge. On her right side, she could see the part of the big room that she and John had previously been in; furniture and even some small internal walls had been reduced to mere debris.

Olivia turned her head a bit futher, and saw the man that had promised to help her, Peter, standing on a pile made out of pieces of collapsed wall. Next to him stood a tall and dark man, whose posture almost screamed authority. They were talking, their expressions grave and their eyes searching.

She tilted her head away from them, and tried to count how many people were in the basement. If she included the ones she wasn't sure were alive too, there were eighteen of them. Some she recognized as agents, others as administrative workers and a few people she didn't know at all. There was one older man who seemed to be wandering around pointlessly, and she wondered if he was the 'crazy old man' Peter had told her about. She was just about to call out to him, yet again frustrated by the fact that her injured ankle made it impossible for her to walk, when she saw Peter approaching her. The bald guy she'd seen before was right behind him, his long black coat covered in white dust.

"How is John? Did you find him? Is he okay?" She fired questions at him rapidly, but was stopped by the dark look on his face.

"I'm sorry." Peter said, shaking his head.

"What?" No, this couldn't be true. John was okay! He had to be. He couldn't have just died, not now! Not when he was the first good thing that had ever happened to her. No, John couldn't be dead. It wasn't true. This man, this Peter was lying to her! Why should she believe him anyway, what's to say he wasn't lying? She shook her head vigorously, unwilling to believe what this total stranger had just told her.

"You're lying. That's not true, John's not dead! No!" She sat up, her whole body shaking with anger and shock and adrenaline. "No!" Peter immediately tried to push her back, but she wasn't going to give in. She was going to look for him, see for herself.

Peter wouldn't allow her, though. He grabbed her arms, not wavering when she began to direct her anger towards him, hitting his chest with her fists, though not actually hurting him much. Tears began to well in her eyes, and slowly her anger began to dissipate into sadness and desperation, and Peter was now holding her as she sobbed silently. He whispered soothing things to her, pure nonsense only meant to comfort her. They just sat like that for what seemed like hours, until finally she pulled herself together.

With one last tear, she told herself not to cry any more. To be strong. To be herself.

She, somewhat awkwardly, moved away from Peter while drying her eyes with one ripped sleeve and asked him one thing: "Can you take me to him?"

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**A/N: ARE YOU EXITED FOR TONIGHT? I can't wait, I've been squeeing like the little fangirl I am all day long, which is pretty hard while also being incredibly sleep-deprived and studying for the total slave practice that's called school. Cheer me up with a review? **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm just going to stop apologizing for short chapters. I'm sure no-one believes me anyway. The next update probably won't be until monday, unless I find the time to type up another one today. Enjoy! **

**DISCLAIMER: Only the story is mine, all recognizable characters belong to their creators. And Fox. I think. **

**WARNING: Some profanity. **

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Peter was standing a few yards behind Olivia, who was sitting next to the blood-stained body of her beloved John. He didn't know why, but somehow he couldn't stand the thought of them together, even though it pained him to see Olivia so sad and hurt.

But why? He'd only known her for a few days, under what he wouldn't exactly qualify as the best of circumstances - a dead lover, a broken heart and possibly a broken world weren't really his favourites - and she wasn't exeptionally beautiful or hot. But her eyes, those haunted green eyes had captivated him from the start. _And now you've come as far as being jealous of her boyfriend. Her __**dead**__ boyfriend. _

He wasn't proud of it, but as he looked at her pale complexion and those green, green eyes, he couldn't think of anything else.

She tried to get up and he rushed to her side, supporting her with one arm. She vaguely thanked him, and he felt a small surge of - Of what exactly? - run through his body. He fingered the object in his pocket, pondering whether or not he'd give it to her. Finally, his concience won out from his selfish desires which he shouldn't be having in the first place - he was Peter Bishop, for god's sake - and he handed her the golden ring.

"I -um, I found this in his jacket." He said, trying to sound as collected as possible, and appearantly doing a good job at it. Or maybe she was just too shaken to notice anyting else.

She'd stopped walking - even though it'd been more like hobbling in the first place - and stared at his hand, where the elegant golden band still lay. Her eyes were wide, and her expression one of extreme surprise, and maybe something else. If he hadn't known better, Peter would've thought it dread.

Slowly, still leaning on his shoulder, Olivia took the ring, studying it, her expression now unreadable. Peter found it irritated him immensly, not knowing what she was thinking. What the hell was happening to him? They were stuck underground in a ravaged basement, many injured and not knowing what had happened, if there even were others alive, and all he could think about was a woman he'd met just days ago, whose boyfriend had just died!

Not good. Not good at all.

So when she tucked away the ring in her pocket, he couldn't help but be the slightest bit relieved she didn't wear it on her finger. He resolved to get to know her, to help her in any way he could, and to hope that some day she'd look at him like that, her haunted eyes filled with love.

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**A/N: Review please? Pretty please? Pretty please with- Ah, forget it. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Next chapter! Enjoy. **

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**As she woke up, she immediately noticed that she was alone; Peter was gone. Then, she remembered about John, and the overwhelming urge to burst out in tears emerged again. She wouldn't cry, though; she'd embarrassed herself enough already with her emotional display last night, or what she assumed was night, as there was no daylight in the room they were in.

She tried sat up, still a bit sleepy, and the seriousness of the situation overcame her. They were in a basement, they'd been under attack, possibly with nuclear weapons, and she had no idea how the world was doing. The FBI building might have been the only target, or maybe even the entire country. There was no way to know except for going up to the surface, and ascertaining the damage for themselves. That wouldn't be too easy, however, as the doors were being blocked by what looked like man-made barricades, somewhat intact chairs and tables shoved hastily on a pile, its combined weight effectively shutting out any foreign life.

Olivia took another look around, and saw Peter standing nearby, talking to a short young woman with a mass of dark brown curls framing her face. It was Astrid, a junior agent, and next to her stood another man, whom she recognized as Charlie. She let out a little relieved sigh; not everyone she cared about was dead. She immediately called out to him, as she still couldn't move without help because of her ankle and the three of them turned around to face her. She now also noticed the man that she'd seen before, the older guy Peter'd described as a 'crazy old man'.

Charlie walked towards her, kneeling down at her side. She smiled at him, fleetingly but meaningful. _I'm glad you're okay._ Then her face went back to all buisiness, and she began asking the questions that'd been plaguing her mind.

"What _the hell _happened?"

"Well, that's what we're all wondering." Charlie said in his deep voice. "All we know is that there were noises that sounded like bombs and that all telephone lines, internet connections and radio-signals are dead. We don't know how bad it is yet, but believe me, 'Livy, it's not good."

"And how many people are in here?" She'd been unable to count them before, as there were several people hidden from her sight behind piles of rubble and half-destroyed pieces of furniture.

"Sixteen living, and eleven dead." Answered he, eyes sad.

"Damn it. And who are those two?" Olivia asked, pointing to Peter and the old man by his side.

"Dr. Walter Bishop and his son, Peter Bishop. Apparantly they're consultants, brought in for Broyles' case." he motioned to the tall dark man she'd seen standing on a pile next to Peter earlier. "They say it has something to do with this whole thing." So the older man was Peter's father. That was interesting.

"Well do they know what's going on?"

"I don't know, they haven't said yet. To be honest, I'm worried. We're stuck in this basement, we have wounded people, few resources and absolutely no idea what's going on up there. There could be hundreds of victims and there could be millions, we don't know."

"And nobody's gone up yet?"

"Nobody. Everyone's just glad they could get to the basement in time, that at least they've survived." Charlie said, looking around at the devastation surrounding them.

"Well, we've got to go up sometime. As you said, we don't have a lot of food, water and if there's people up there that need help we've got to help them." Olivia said, yet again cursing the fact that she was unable to do anything, just because of that stupid ankle.

"We will, 'Livy, but you've got to take it easy. You're hurt, remember?"

"Right." She said, still anoyyed. "But I want to know what happened. And we've got to organize ourselves. Someone's got to come up with a way to get up, otherwise we'll all die in here."

"But we won't." Charlie said with conviction, his hand resting on her shoulder affectionately.

"Oh, I know that. I know that." Olivia replied, determination etched in her features. She'd make sure of that.

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**A/N: Review please?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So finally, a longer chapter. See, I promised! **

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**They were all seated around a somewhat intact table, their chairs improvised and their expressions focussed.

Olivia looked around, naming every person seated in her mind. Broyles, the man of high status. Walter Bishop, the mad scientist. Peter Bishop, his son. Astrid Farnsworth, the junior agent. Charlie, her partner. Noah Petersen, a civillian who was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe the right. These were the people that'd stepped up to help, the leaders of the group. There were others, but most of them were too shaken or just too badly injured to be able to do anything useful. These people, here at the table were the ones that were going to have to save everyone.

"Alright, I know many of you have questions, and I believe Dr. Bishop here may be able to anwer a few of them." Broyles said in his authorotive manner and deep voice.

"Yes, well, alright." Dr. Bishop said, and Olivia wondered how much of the 'crazy old man' part Peter'd told her she should believe. "What has happened here, I believe, is a result of an inter-dimensional war. You see-"

"A _what_?" Petersen, the civillian, asked.

"This might need a little further explanation." Said Broyles. "About three weeks ago we started receiving cryptic warnings, notes that said things about 'the other side' attacking and World War Three. They came accompanied by devices which contained alien technology, things that haven't yet been invented in our world."

"You speak as if there are more worlds." Astrid said.

"That is correct."

"So what, you believe the Martians attacked us or something?" Charlie asked, his expression almost mocking.

"No, no, not like that!" Dr. Bishop suddenly said. "Have an open mind, dare to think beyond what you believe is possible. Don't you understand, there are more realities than one! There isn't simply one of everything, there-"

"What he's trying to say," Peter interrupted him, "is that every choice we make creates a new path, a new reality. There are other universes, we can't even imagine how many of them, where everything's very much alike yet there are the slightest differences. For example, someone might have blonde hair over here, but red in another universe, and brown in another and so on."

"And this has what to do with what's happening now?" Asked Charlie.

"Everything." Said Dr. Bishop, a grim look on his face. "I believe we have been attacked by another universe."

"That's ridiculous." Petersen said, and Astrid and Charlie nodded in agreement.

"That's what I thought as well, at first." Broyles face betrayed no emotion, but she knew that he too had to be shaken. He probably had a family as well, and now they weren't even certain of their survival. She admired the man, for keeping such a straight face, and such calm demeanor.

"What about you, Olivia?" Peter asked, interrupting her train of thought. "Do you believe any of the quite certainly impossible and absolutely crazy ramblings of my _previously institutionalized and mentally ill _father?"

Olivia thought for a moment, her head filled with questions but also with theories. Finally, she decided.

"I'm willing to believe it, if it's going to help us get out of here. These people need help, and some up there might also." She said with conviction. "I don't really see how we have another choice here."

"Alright, if it's going to help, I'm with agent Dunham," Astrid said, and Olivia shot her a grateful look. Charlie and Petersen still didn't seem convinced, though.

"Of course, it's just a theory..." Dr. Bishop said, a small trace of uncertainty evident in his voice.

"Let's just go with that theory for now, and tell us why you believe this... other side would attack us?" Olivia asked.

"As mentioned before, we recieved warnings, and there had been an increase in certain events which we call 'Fringe events'." Broyles said in the same diplomatic tone.

"Fringe? But I thought that was just a myth?" Astrid said.

"Oh, I wish it was." Peter exclaimed. "That way I would be stuck babtsitting Mr. Mad Scientist over here." A scowl formed on Peter's handsome face, and Olivia wondered what'd happened to make his relationship with his father this bad.

"But it isn't, there events are very much real. And now we have reason to believe they have attacked." Broyles continued.

"With what exactly? Bombs, soldiers? How do they get from one 'reality' to this one, if we have to believe what you're saying?" Petersen asked skeptically.

"You see, that's precisely the problem. Years ago, before I was sent to St. Claire-"

"You were in the looney bin?" Charlie asked incredulously. "That explains a lot."

"Why no, I don't believe it does. It has nothing to do with this case, in fact-"

"Walter, focus." Peter interrupted him, irritation etched in his features.

"Right. What I wanted to say before I was rudely interrupted," He sent Charlie a dark look, "is that I've succeeded in sending objects to the other side, and retrieving some from over there as well, but never actual living organisms, and most definitely not an entire army. Also, based on the shocks that we endured under this attack, I must cunclude we were bombed, and not only the FBI building. Most likely, all of Boston or even more. To be sure of the exact weapons that were used, however, I must aquire a sample."

"You mean someone going up there? But God knows what we'll find, and what if they used nuclear weapons? Then we're all going to die! And what if-" Petersen began panicking, and Astrid, who was seated next to him, put her hand on his shoulder in a calming gesture.

"Hey, look at me." He turned his face toward her. "It's going to be okay. We're not going to let anything happen." Astrid told him reassuringly, and he calmed down a bit, sinking back into his chair.

"But who'll go up? We don't have any hazmat suits, no protection, nothing. I sure as hell ain't going up there, not without knowing what happened." Charlie said, his cool demeanor slipping a bit.

"I'll go." Olivia said, causing all the mumbling to stop, and all the heads to turn her way, eyes shocked.

"Oh, great. Let's all just do what the crazy man says, 'cause that's going to save us." Peter said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Something's got to." Olivia said, her eyes heavy.

Charlie knew that look. Astrid knew that look. Agent Dunham had made a decision, and the both of them knew there was no stopping her now.

"Marvellous." Walter said, his expression gleeful, as he was oblivious to the heavy mood of the room. "Now, you'll need to cover as much of your skin as possible, and preferably wear sunglasses as well; we wouldn't want to risk your eyes being burned out of their sockets, it'd be rather useless. You know, sight is one of the most important senses. Actually, I've once performed an experiment-"

"Will you stay on topic, _please_?" Peter interrupted him again.

"Oh yes, son, you're quite right. Time is of the essence."

"So let's do this."

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**A/N: Unless I have a chance to update tomorrow (very unlikely, I'm being buried in schoolwork), there'll be a new chapter on Monday, as I'm going to Belgium for the weekend, with no internet connection. But maybe, if I get a lot of reviews...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A tiny, tiny little teaser chapter just to keep my promise. School went well, so I had time and I wrote one more (super-short) chapter. Enjoy!**

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**The next day had arrived, and still no-one had been able to convince Olivia not to go. They had surely tried, but she was simply too determined, and all the preparations had, albeit reluctantly, been made. She would go up, shielded only by many clothers and a pair of sunglasses, and asess the situation. Walter'd told her to bring soil-, air- and, if possible, water samples. That, however, was least of her worries, for the complete absence of any help, radio and tv-broadcasts, or the slightest sign of life disturbed her. Surely, anybody must've known they were out there? She just couldn't accept the fact that maybe there was nobody left to help, that maybe all of Boston had been affected in the blast.

Finally, it was time for her to go up to the surface, and step out of the safety of the basement. Of course she was worried, for her safety and about what she might find once up there, but the need for helping others was far bigger. There she stood now, suspended in the threshold, holding on to her cruches tightly. She took one look behind her, where the eyes of every single survivor were upon her. She saw Charlie giving her an encouraging smile, and Peter sending a reassuring nod. Turning back, she mustered up all her courage, and with a heavy heart, opened the double doors.

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**A/N: I'm leaving for Belgium in half an hour, so really no more updates until monday. Review? **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Next chapter, with some action :D **

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**As Olivia opened the doors, a burst of hot air hit her face immediately, and she quickly closed it behind her to make sure anything possibly harmful didn't reach the safety of the basement.

A first look around told her that the tall tower, the pride of the FBI building was completely gone, and they had been extremely lucky that the small side-building the basement was located under, though extremely shaken, hadn't been hit by the falling debris. It was, however, an enormous mess. There were destroyed things everywhere, and the entire roof was gone. As she took a few steps, which was being made difficult by the rocks everywhere, and the cruches she had to use to support her busted ankle, she saw an arm sticking out from under a pile of rubble.

She immediately sped over to the body, as quickly as she could with the cruches, and felt his wrist for a pulse. She found none. The arm was cold, and Olivia had seen enough of death to know that this person had been so for a while. His body was already in decomposition, and the absence of the hated little insects which always seemed to creep around dead bodies alarmed her even further.

Then, after ascertaining there were no others in the room, either dead or alive, she moved towards the door. There, too, she hesitated for a while, fearing what she might find. Finally, she moved her hand to open the simple backdoor, the barely used exit that would determine their fate.

She was met with a horrible sight.

Before her, where once the city of Boston had stood tall, was now nothing short of complete distruction. Buildings lay in ruins, cars sat flung across the streets, denched and broken as if they were nothig. Enormous canyons had risen into existance in a matter of mere days and the entire landscape had changed to that of a rocky desert. The singns of a stream of mud and water having passed through were visible, and the temperature was extremely high.

And she hadn't yet mentioned the most horrific thing of all; there were bodies everywhere.

Bodies on the ground, bodies in the ruins, even limbs and unrecognizable, bloody forms strewn around. Adults, children, elderly people, all were dead. The smell that filled the air was a gory mix of blood, decomposition and mere distruction. In some ruins fires were burning low, others beared the marks of heavy rainfall, as if the whole climate had changed in a few days.

For a moment, Olivia just stood there, looking at the ravage around her. It was just too much to take in. Too much to think about, too much emotions to feel raging through her body and too much pain and red hot rage blinding her sight.

But then her training kicked in, and suddenly she was agent Olivia Dunham again, and saving lives was all she could think about. She ran over to the next recognizable body she could see, and felt for a heartbeat.

None. She tried the next person. Nothing. The next, and the next, all of them dead. All killed, and she didn't even know why. Olivia felt the impulse to sink to her knees and just cry, cry until she had no more tears, but something stopped her. She had to be strong. Slowly, she closed the eyes of the man before her, a man whose name she didn't even know, and let a tear slide down her cheek.

Then she stood up again, and took another look around, as horrifying as it was. She could see the horizon, see the sun lower down towards the earth. There were no skyscrapers blocking her sight, no tall buildings or sattelite towers. Just dirt and ruins, total ravage.

Then she thought of something.

She had to get to Ella.

She'd completely blocked out any thought about her sister and niece, believing, perhaps foolishly, that they would be okay. That losing John had been enough grief for her, that there couldn't possibly be a god who would let such a thing happen. Not just like that.

But getting upset wasn't going to help them now. All she could do was find them, and hope and pray they were still alive.

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**A/N: I know that this chapter ends at kind of a weird place, but I didn't know any other way to end it. Review? **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait! I'm doing the NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month- it's this thing where you write 50,000 words in one month) and I've been really buisy with reasearch and such. It'll only get buisier, and updates wil get more sparse, but to make up for it, a longer chapter :D **

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**They were currently standing on what Olivia believed had been a house- but she couldn't be sure. In fact, she felt like she couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

Yesterday, after Olivia had first went up to the surface, she'd barely been able to control the impulse to go looking for Rachel and Ella, and had reluctantly returned to the basement. She'd collected samples of the water, soil and air, as Walter'd asked her to, and he'd been working all night to finally determine that the outside world, or at least Boston, was safe. After coming back, Olivia'd first reported to Broyles, who by now had become the 'boss' and afterwards, after declining Charlie's offer to so, performed the grievious task of telling the others what she'd encountered, and that there was almost no chace their families were still alive.

After that, she'd seen more looks of pure agony than she'd ever seen before, and the tear-stained eyes of a silently crying woman had been haunting her eversince.

They'd decided to go looking for survivors the next day; everyone'd split up in pairs and tried to find their way back to what'd once been their home. She'd immediately set out for her apartment, not able to bear the uncertainty much longer. She'd been quickly followed by Peter; who caught up with her and started talking.

"So, who are you looking for? Husband, boyfriend, kid?" He asked, his tone almost distracting her from the actual meaning of the sentence. He said it with such venom, that she couldn't quite figure out what he was implying.

"Sister and nice, Rachel and Ella. You? Do you have anyone to look for?" They passed another body, and after fruitlessly feeling for a pulse, continued with a sigh.

"Nah, I don't have anyone. I'm kind of a nomad. I don't do well staying in one place."

"So then why are you here?"

"Well, it's a long story." He said, evading the question.

"Unfortunately," Olivia said, her voice carrying a dark undertone. "I've got plenty of time."

And so he explained how he'd been called to Boston to get his father out of a mental institutional (more like blackmailed) so that he could solve some super-secret, obscure case, and just hadn't seen the chance to leave yet. She listened to it all, somehow intrigued though it should've sounded insane and far-fetched to her.

And now they were almost there, nearly at her building where they'd almost certainly find the bodies of more loved ones, all gone in a snap. Up until this time, Olivia had been able to distract herself from thoughts of this moment, talking to Peter and thinking of ways to survive. But now she had to face it, and she just couldn't bring herself to walk those last few steps to her house, those strides that would surely bring her pain and heartbreak to last through her life.

Suddenly, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. As she turned around, she stared right into the blue eyes of this man she'd only just met but somehow trusted so deeply, and finally, slowly, moved her foot forwards. She grimly continued, until she was standing at the remains of what'd once been her apartment. It wasn't that horribly wrecked in comparison to some of the buildings they'd come across, but anyone could see that being in this building when it collapsed would've surely killed you.

And then she saw a shoe. It was a heel, Olivia recognized it immediately. They were Rachel's favourites, she'd had them for years. She followed the path indicated by the shoe with growing dread, her stomach churning when she saw a flash of blood red on creamy white. And there she was: Rachel, dead. Her sister, her best friend, the one with whom she'd snuck candy under the bed and giggled at the boy next door. The one she could always talk to, the one who'd been so strong for Ella. Her baby sister, and she was gone now.

A lonely tear escaped the confines of her eye, and soon others followed; she was crying and hurting so bad.

Suddenly, Peter's voice ripped through the air. "I found her! She's alive!"

Olivia's head shot up, shocked by his words and immediately on her feet. She grabbed her crutch, and hobbled over to Peter's hunched form as quick as her legs would allow her.

There her little pale niece was, covered in cuts and bruises and being carried by Peter but miraculously enough still very much alive.

She was mumbling through cracked lips, her eyes half-open and the sounds she was making only half illegible. It sounded something like 'mommy' but Olivia couldn't be sure.

"Quick, we have to get her to Walter." Peter urged, and for a moment she was baffled as to why they'd need to bring her injured niece to a madman, but then she remembered that that madman was also a brilliant doctor.

They half-ran, half-hiked their way back, Peter carrying the limp body of the little girl and making their way through the ravage of the burning city. It'd pained Olivia to just leave her sister's body like that, but if they wanted Ella to survive, they needed to get her to a doctor right away.

When the whole group had seperated that morning, they'd also been given the task of finding as much food, water, bandages, medicine, clothes and such as they could find, and on the way to her apartment Olivia had found quite a bit, collecting them in an improvised bag made from her suit jacket- it was uncommonly hot, something Walter thought might've been a result form the attack, so she didn't really need it anyway. Right now, however, she couldn't care less about the things falling out of it every few steps, only wanting to bring Ella back safely.

Finally, as the sun began to set, they returned to the former FBI building, its place marked by the large white impromptu flag Walter had hung there as soon as they'd determined going out was safe, or at least this part. Even though he'd put it up so that possible other survivors could spot them more easily Olivia didn't like the sight of it, the white flag looking too much like surrendering to her, and she wasn't about to do any such thing.

As Olivia was still supporting some of her weight on one crutch, made out of broken furniture, Peter'd carried Ella for most the trip. She was thankful for that, and made a mental note to thank him later, when Ella was okay- because in Olivia's mind, there was no doubt she'd be okay. She had to, she'd lived through too much already to just die now. She knew it.

Walter immediately came rushing towards them when they entered, and began asserting Ella's injuries even before Peter'd lain her down on one of the 'beds'. Astrid and Petersen were there as well, appearantly having given themselves the position of Dr. Bishops assistants, and began swarming around little Ella's body, helping as best as they could. Olivia just stood to the side, tears that'd previously been pushed back by adrenaline now running freely. She was gripping onto Charlie, who'd sped to her side and was crying as well, just as silently.

"Sonia's gone." He suddenly said through strained sobs, cutting right through her soul.

"So is Rachel."

And there they were, two friends cying, having lost almost everyone, but still not giving up- comforting each other and silently promising to always be there.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by Walter, yelling with a joy-filled voice: "She's going to be fine!"

Olivia immediately stood up, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes, ignoring the inquiring look Peter sent her -no doubt about Charlie and her- and ran over to where her niece lay.

"She's going to be okay?" She asked, and Walter nodded gleefully. "Thank god."

"Oh, mind you, she'll still be a bit sore when she wakes up, but miraculously enough, she was only dehydrated and malnurtured. She also has some bruises and cuts, but she's fairly unharmed. It's actually most pecuiliar, as if someone helped her, got her out from under the rocks, just laying her on top for us to find!"

"Walter, that's enough of you psycho-babble for today." Peter said, trying to sound irritated but a grin adorning his face.

"Son, I'm just making an observation. Now, we've given her some fluids the best we could, and I suspect she'll wake up in an hour or ten. Of course, then there's still the psychological trauma which might be quite heavy, the poor child, but physically she'll be okay."

"Thank you so much." Olivia said, almost unable to contain her happiness, an enormous change from the grief-stricken woman she had been just minutes ago. Ella was okay, and Olivia had someone to fight for.

"Alright then, is everybody back inside?" Olivia said when evening began to fall, a relieved smile gracing her face that seemed oddly enchanting to Peter. Seeing her laugh, quite possibly a first, was like seeing a flower bloom, cliché as it sounded.

"Yeah, everyone's in, Noah and I checked." Astrid said, Olivia noticing that they appearantly were on first-name basis already. "No more survivors found." She then added gravely, confirming what everyone'd expected but didn't dare say.

Olivia felt her heart sink; bad news was bad news, expected or not. A small silence followed, finally being broken by Olivia's voice: "Well, it's getting late, so let's all just try to go to sleep." She proposed. No objections were made when everyone walked over to their respective sleeping places.

Olivia sat down next to Ella, taking the girl's hand in hers. Slowly, the room started quieting down, until only the occasional small sob was hearable. Sitting there, her litlle niece's hand warm against her skin, Olivia realized how lucky she really was. Ella was alive, miraculous as it was.

But her mother was gone, and her father was most likely dead as well. It occured to Olivia, that she was now the one to take care of Ella. If Walter's theory was right, which was looking more realistic by the hour, her nice was now an orphan, and Oliva would have to raise her.

She paniced. Raising a child, she? Sure, she loved Ella more than anything, and loved being with her, but raising her? Olivia was never home, never even had proper food in the house, only stale cornflakes and a bottle of liqour. How would she take care of a child when she couldn't even properly take care of herself, always becoming completely immersed in her cases and forgetting all else?

But even that'd changed. She didn't have a job anymore, didn't have an apartment to sleep in and murders to solve. Just people to take care of, to help survive in a world that barely existed anymore.

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**A/N: I'm not really sure about this chapter, there are some parts I really struggled with. Please review, any criticism, good or bad is appreciated. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: New chapter, not my best work. As I've mentioned before, updates are really slowing down now. I have no school this week though, so I might be able to update again this week :D **

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On their hunt for survivors, five days ago, Broyles had asked people searching to bring back as much useful things as they could find. That task, however, had proven to be more than slightly difficult in a destroyed city, and they were running out of food and more importantly, water. Their travels to the surface had become more frequent, and with it the need to give at least a few of the dead a proper burial.

Thus, all the remaining survivors had gone out into the city again, carrying back the bodies of their loved ones.

This morning, they'd dug a great hole, and one by one lowered the bodies into it, Peter and Charlie covering them with sand. Everyone was crying, including even Broyles -she'd discovered he'd lost his children and ex-wife. Ella, who was recovering speedily, held on to Olivia tightly the whole time.

When Olivia'd told the child her mother was gone, Ella didn't cry. At first, Olivia thought she hadn't understood what she said, and repeated it. Once, twice, three times, and still no reaction. Olivia's own eyes were filled with tears, but Ella's were perfectly dry, staring ahead without really seeing.

It'd taken her two more days to finally cry, and Olivia almost wished she hadn't. It was just so heartbreaking to hear the little child's muffled cries all night long, continuing even in her dreams, as she slept in her aunt's arms. She knew what Ella was going through, knew how much it hurt to lose a parent when you were just a child. She'd hoped her niece would be spared that pain, that feeling of your heart ripping in two, and the emptiness that became less over the years but never really went away.

So now, when Rachel's body dissapeared into the ground, every moment seemed to last for hours. Olivia thought of all the people that'd died, all the lives lost and wondered what for. Who was it, so evil and impossibly cruel that'd done this? How could they live with himself? How they just go on, knowing they had destroyed so much?

Finally the service was over, Ella having sobbed into her aunt's chest until her breathing evened out. Olivia lay the girl down on the 'bed', brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her, and turned to see Peter standing there, his sleeves rolled up and sweat beading on his forehead. Even in the basement, buried in the ground and without windows it was hot, not to mention the temperature outside. That was one of the strangest things, it was as if the entire climate had changed, leaving Boston a rocky desert. For that same reason, water was scarce and Olivia suspected they'd soon have to move elsewhere to find enough food and water.

"Is she okay?" Peter asked, pulling her out of her thoughts and focussing them on Ella.

"She's doing pretty good, considering she just lost her mother."

"And what about her father?"

"Greg?" Olivia said. "This is going to sound really harsh, but I'm not that sad he might be dead. He was a jerk, and a horrible father to Ella. I know he doesn't deserve to die, but Ella's better off without him. It's why they were even here, Rachel took her to Boston because she was getting a divorce. They were going to have a better life-" Then the memories of her sister became too much, and she said nothing more, afraid it would come out as a sob instead. She'd cried enough already, more in the past few days than she'd had in her entire life. She needed to pull herself together.

"Now she's gone." She said finally through gritted teeth.

"But Ella's still here, " Peter urged. "and if I've learned anything about you in the pas few days, I know you're going to give her a good life. As good as possible in this mess." His tone was a far cry from his normal, sarcasm-laced voice; it was soft, and caring, and showed a side of him that surprised Olivia.

Then it went back to all buisness, as he asked her if Ella had told her how she'd survived.

"Actually, she said something about a man with a hat and no eyebrows getting her out from under the ruins, but I think she was delirious. I mean, don't you think if there was still someone alive here we'd come across them? And why rescuing Ella and then leaving?" Olivia said.

"I don't know, Boston's a big city. Even a destroyed Boston." He smiled grimly.

"Yeah." Olivia paused, seemingly contemplating something. "Do you think there's still people alive, others on this world?"

"I do. I mean, there must've been others who hid in a basement, or bunker or something." Peter said, his words lined with such a slight trace of desperation Olivia almost didn't even catch it. It made her uneasy.

"Yeah. So do I."

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**A/N: Reviews make me update faster :D **


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